Something to Think About
by Reading Redhead
Summary: So, what did Han's wink at Leia mean at the end of ANH? My take on it from Han's POV. Somewhat introspective. Sorry, bad summary


**Disclaimer:** I really do own nothing, and it's starting to annoy me.

**Author's Note:** To all of you who usually read my work, you know I'm venturing off into a new fandom, and now everyone reading my work for the first time will know, too. I'll admit right off the bat that I'm not one of those insane Star Wars fans (though I kinda wish I was), and I've only seen the movies. This was inspired by the fact that I just got the original trilogy on DVD for my birthday, and watched the movies in order on three successive days. So today when I was bored in Spanish class, I thought, why not write a Star Wars fic? And, since I love Leia and Han, it seemed only natural that I discuss their interactions. Thus, this piece came about. Read, enjoy, and please take time to review!

**Something to Think About**

As they walk down the center aisle of the hall, the crowd stands and turns and cheers on its new heroes, those responsible for the destruction of the Death Star and the reduction of the Imperial threat. Luke walks next to Han, unsure of how to react to such applause. The kid doesn't quite know how to act now that everyone knows his name. He'll get used to it in time, Han suspects, but until then he'll flinch every time he hears someone clap. Though he does seem confident, in that bright yellow jacket Han wouldn't be caught dead in. The kid's certainly come a long way from Tatooine, and he knows it.

It's a new situation for Han, as well. It's not very often he receives applause for—well, for anything. The last time he checked, he was a damn good smuggler who, due to unfortunate circumstances, had a bounty on his head. And suddenly he's here, about to be awarded a medal for helping defeat a force that, until recently, he hasn't viewed as more than a nuisance. He's not used to being seen as useful.

But still, in this ragtag rebel group, he almost fits. Here, where former senators and hot-shot pilots work side by side to achieve a common goal. Where a princess without a planet is about to present a medal of honor to a pirate who only intended to save a friend and is being treated like he saved a galaxy.

Okay. So maybe he did both. And maybe he deserves a medal. But he's not the kind of person who gets what he deserves out of the world very often. So he's a bit confused, too, and doesn't quite know what to do about it. He's always been a fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants kind of guy, mostly by his own choice, but actually being rewarded for a job well done is more unpredictable than anything that's happened to him yet.

After a mile, it seems, he's at the front of the hall, standing before the entire crowd and feeling their eyes on his back. He sees the princess, dressed as usual in flowing white, her hair down. She smiles, full of all the confidence in the world. She's probably done things like this hundreds of times before, so that her actions and expressions as she puts the first medallion around Luke's neck could be mechanical.

But somehow he knows she's truly excited to be here, bestowing these medals upon them. There's something about her smile that makes him think she might not always be harsh and abrasive, that maybe she can feel genuine joy and maybe she's feeling it now. It only shows in a small quirk of her lips, perhaps in a previously unseen sparkle of her eyes. She knows, and he knows, but she won't admit it later if he asks about it. Her joy, like much else about her, is private.

Still, as she takes the second medal, and as he lowers his head so she can drape it around his neck, he feels a sudden desire to wedge his way into the chink he's found in her impersonal façade, to _be_ that continued annoyance that reminds her, day after day, that she's not above insults and laughter and feeling. She'll never admit it, but at that moment he's exactly what she needs.

The medallion settles around his neck and he looks back up. That quirky smile still plays across her face; that small glimmer is still evident in her eyes. Suddenly he needs to catch her gaze, to see exactly what is written there. Their eyes lock—for one moment, a link is forged between them, carrying an inexplicable power.

Then he smiles, breaking the connection with a cocky wink. Her grin falters, suddenly perplexed. His smile only widens. This'll give her highness something to think about…


End file.
